Hours Ago
by Akumi-san
Summary: A midday craving for tacos at the local Mexican food restaurant plunges Craig and his gang into the middle of a dangerous plot that could threaten all of South Park. They must either forget what they saw and listen to Clyde complain about it forever or stand up for their (and all of South Park's) rights and fight back. Warning: nonsense made to be serious


**Warnings**: language, general South Park ridiculousness and offensiveness, mention of Clyde's dead mother, lazy writing and potential typos  
**Pairings**: none really, Clyde and Craig if you squint _suuper_ hard I guess

* * *

Everything up until that point had been pretty normal that day.

School had started on time, which meant Craig was late to first period for what seemed like the billionth time this semester. The French teacher must have thought so, too, as he had gotten a good chewing out in front of the class before he was allowed to get to his seat, where he promptly laid his head down and passed out. Apparently that was the last straw because Craig left first period with a shiny pink detention slip in hand and an earful of heavily accented lecture he had hardly paid attention to. Clyde laughed all the way to chemistry.

The detention was set for after seventh period gym class. So, naturally, Craig left school after sixth period algebra along with Clyde, who didn't have to take gym because he was on the football team, Token, who had taken health class over the summer instead, and Tweek, who had a doctor's note to be permanently excused from gym as it seemed to give him more anxiety than normal class. Kenny might miss his usual "hide in the corner and hope the PE teacher didn't notice them" partner, but fuck him. The asshole ditched about as often as he did.

Token and Tweek looked vaguely surprised to see him and Clyde saunter up. "Vaguely" because it wasn't really all that unusual for Craig to dip out of gym, especially on mile run days.

Craig Tucker avoided unnecessary physical exertion like the plague. No need to get sweaty and gross for no better reason than because a teacher told him to. Teachers could go fuck themselves. In fact, a lot of his detentions had resulted from him telling his PE teacher to do just that with a flat stare and half-assed middle finger. And Clyde was always happy to aid in his escape plans in the off season being that that was one less hour he had to wait around to drive Craig home. Not that he minded doing so in the first place. Usually he'd just chill with Kenny and Craig in whatever corner they'd holed themselves up in anyway.

"Yeah, it's no problem," Token was saying when they walked up.

"Thanks man," Tweek bit out through tense, clenched teeth, taking the composition book Token was handing him and stuffing it into the mess that was his messenger bag. "Oh god! I can't believe I – erk – I can't believe I forgot my combination again! I just put my notes in there before lunch. Gah! How could I forget? Oh my god!" His eyes widened as if in sudden, horrible realization. "Agh! Clyde!" He whipped around and latched onto the brunette's sleeve.

Clyde turned from readjusting the strap on his backpack. "Huh?" he grunted.

"Clyde! Do you remember what we – gah! – did in second period today?"

"No." Clyde shrugged, not fazed in the slightest by Tweek's expression going from panicky to borderline manic and clearly not concerned about forgetting chemistry class. He started fiddling with the strap again, trying to unjam the damn thing.

"Oh my god I knew it!" Tweek relinquished his grip on Clyde and grabbed at his hair in despair. "They're out to get us all! First its – agh! – first it's locker combinations and science homework, then – then it's whole days a time! The government is going to turn us all into mindless zombies! Or..."he paused, eyes flicking back and forth wildly, "ohmygodwhatifit'sthealiens?! I can't handle that! Oh god!"

Token was the one to firmly put his hand on Tweek's shoulder. Always the rational one. And definitely less of an asshole than the other two, who were only half watching the whole ordeal. "Tweek, you forget your locker combination all the time and Clyde doesn't remember what he had for breakfast, let alone what you guys did in chemistry class."

"Hey! I do too!" Clyde looked up, clearly affronted by the accusation. "I had pancakes and Lucky Charms."

Craig finally looked over, lips quirked ever-so-slightly in a smirk. "Food's the only thing that Clyde remembers."

"Yea- wait, what?"

Craig ignored him and turned to Tweek, who had at least stopped ripping at his hair. "He means that you've always been forgetful and Clyde is too stupid to pay attention in class."

"Hey, fuck you, dude! We have the same grade!" Clyde had completely abandoned his strap at that point, his expression looking like he was either on the verge of tears or trying to beat the shit out of his best friend. Which might have resulted in him dissolving into tears anyway. Clyde always felt bad after kicking someone's ass. Bleeding heart.

Craig shrugged and turned away to look at something that was obviously far more interesting than the others. "Never said we didn't," was the monotone response. A pause. "I'm hungry." He turned back around to give Clyde a weighted look.

Clyde perked up immediately, all previous offenses forgotten. "Me too!"

They both turned their gazes on Token.

"Assholes," Token muttered before starting to pack up his backpack and walk towards his car. "You're not mooching off my family today. My parents are out of town this week." He scowled when they followed him expectantly. "They brought our chef along with them?" he added before turning back around and starting to dump shit into the back seat of the BMW.

Craig rolled his eyes and Clyde looked crestfallen which made Craig roll his eyes again. Bummer, because holy shit, meals there were classy as shit, but seriously, it wasn't like they were going to starve without it. Clyde was great at the melodramatic.

Craig sighed. Whatever. Then they were just going to go home. He didn't really care either way. Whenever everyone's schedules actually lined up properly the four of them would usually end up at Token's place and chow down on whatever gourmet crap his chef was cooking up that night while watching movie or show marathons on Token's big screen TV and sneaking some beers if Token's parents were out. But he had a PS4 and a couple new games back at home (on his admittedly much smaller television) that were calling his name, too. Not to mention some muscle relaxers he had bought off some douchey college students a couple days ago that he had yet to try out. It wasn't like he'd be bored.

He shrugged and glanced at Clyde before starting to head towards the beat up old pick-up his best friend had named Gertrude. Stupid name for an ugly God-knows-how-old truck, but Clyde loved the loud obnoxious thing no matter how often it crapped out on him when he tried to turn the engine over. Reasons why Craig didn't bum a ride off him in the mornings before school. He was late all the time because he was an asshole and hated going to class. He didn't need to add shitty unreliable transportation to that.

"Ngh! Why don't we – gah! – why don't we just go out and get some food? It's not like we can't – erk! – hang out if we don't go over there."

Clyde and Craig turned back to stare dumbly at Tweek, who hadn't moved from where he was. He shifted uneasily under their gazes, gripping his shirt and muttering under his breath with averted eyes.

It was a few moments before Clyde finally whispered, "Oh yeah."

Craig had to admit he felt the same sense of dawning realization that his best friend seemed to be experiencing. That was totally a possibility wasn't it? Hah. Duh. Free delicious food almost every free day for years must have mind-washed them into a sense of routine that blinded them from any other possible ways to hang out. Idiocy, really.

No wonder Token was acting like such a dick. He was probably pissed off that they only seemed to use him for his awesome house and rich ass parents – which wasn't entirely true. They also used him for his help with their homework (and the fact that Craig needed someone to be the "voice of reason" in his group or nothing would ever get done).

When he realized Clyde and Tweek were both looking at him as if waiting on his direction, he shrugged, readjusting the weight of the backpack slung over one shoulder. "Yeah, alright." Not like he _really_ had anything better to do. It was Friday and any homework he might have (he'd have to text a couple people later to check) he'd be doing on Sunday, if at all.

He turned back around just as Token was shutting the back car door. "Token?"

Still frowning, Token paused and stared at him in consideration for a moment (longer than he thought was strictly necessary. Seriously, yes or no?). Then he looked past him at the others. He obviously found the expression of eager anticipation he was looking for (and wouldn't be getting from Craig) on one or both of their faces because he sighed, dumped the rest of his stuff in the front seat of his car, checked he had his wallet and slammed the door shut. "Fine, but I'm not driving us anywhere this time," he acquiesced, walking back towards the group.

Craig opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, "You're the only one with enough seats for all of us, dickhole, so you damn well _will_ be driving us," but Clyde, whether having sensed the impending crisis that probably would have ensued or simply through sheer dumb luck, piped up from behind him, "There's a Mexican place a couple blocks down! We can just walk."

"Ngh! I'm down."

"Mexican food..." Craig sort of trailed off, trying to figure out how he felt about the idea. It's not like he was picky. He definitely wasn't. It just wasn't quite what he was in the mood for. Stupid Token leaving them high and dry like this and making them actually decide collectively on a place they all wanted to eat.

Clyde, sensing he might have to put up a fight, went on hurriedly, "Cartman said the tacos there are totally bomb and you can always trust the fatass when it comes to food. Oh please please _please_ let's get Mexican food! I haven't had tacos in _weeks_."

Token just shrugged when Craig glanced his way. "As long as they have rolled tacos, I don't care."

Frowning, Craig looked down. The idea of salsa and guacamole and that distinct oil that everything seemed to be fried in just wasn't appealing right now. He didn't know what he'd rather eat, though, and while he was a dick, he also knew what fights weren't worth picking. Not having an alternative to back up until they gave in would get them nowhere.

Clyde took that time to continue, his expression falling a little more, "And Dad doesn't make them anymore. They were Mom's specialty..."

_Oh God_. Craig's mind halted in horror. Shit. He didn't need to see Clyde to know tears were on the horizon. Shit. _Shit shit shit_.

"Fine. They better have carne asada fries or I'm out of there." He sort of hated himself for his insensitive response that completely ignored and dismissed Clyde's feelings, but the brunette looked up and smiled back at him, genuinely happy that Craig had agreed. Apparently that was enough. And r=that made him feel a little bad, too, but he shrugged it off and shoved his hands into his sweater pockets. Fact: he wasn't a nice person. Never was, probably never would be. Clyde chose to hang out with him all the time and call him his best friend. Not his fault.

"Do you know where it is? What if – agh! – what if we get lost!?"

"Nah dude, it's just down this way," Clyde started walking down the street. Craig thought he heard humming coming from his friend as he trailed behind slowly. Humming! If he had been any other person, he'd have been furious at the manipulative fucker for pulling the dead mother card for results and then springing back so quickly. _Any_ other person and Craig would have started a fight right then and there. Tweek, Token, Kenny, didn't matter. But Clyde was just like that. He just said whatever was on his mind – like remembering another reason why he hadn't had tacos for so long – and then got appropriately sad about it. Not because he was trying to get his way like a certain lardass did all the time, but because he wore his heart on his sleeve and was too dumb or too straightforward to protect it properly – even from himself. So Craig just sighed and let it go.

"Craig, I thought Cartman said Mrs. Limbaugh was giving you guys a free period in gym today," Token spoke up. Translation: I know you didn't have to run today, so why did you ditch this time?

Clyde burst into laughter before Craig could open his mouth. With a scowl, he flipped the brunette off and remained stubbornly silent. Clyde always laughed when he got busted for one thing or another. Not that he would ever get sulky about people laughing at him. Definitely not.

Clyde paused and let everyone catch up to him. "Craig was late-"

"Again?" Tweek interrupted. "Agh!"

Craig shrugged, half-mast eyes fixed ahead. "If they didn't make school start so early in the damn morning, I wouldn't be late all the time," which they all knew was a bare-faced lie. Craig was the laziest asshole of them all, including Clyde. If school started at noon, his ass would find a way to sleep in until then and saunter in looking sleepy-eyed and pissed off around 12:15.

Clyde ignored Craig's bullshit explanation entirely. "I know! So she was already pissed off at him, and then he fell asleep-"

"Dude, really? You have a second row seat; how obvious can you be?"

Token was given a middle finger in response.

Clyde snickered and finished, "So he got _another_ detention for 'disrupting class.'" There was far too much emphasis on the word "another" for Craig's liking. He showed his feelings on the matter by turning his middle finger towards Clyde this time.

"Wait! So you had detention today? Aren't you going to get in trouble for ditching? Oh Jesus! We helped you escape! We're accessories to your truancy! They're going to get us, too! Agh!"

With a harassed sigh, Craig put up a hand to try and stop Tweek from ripping his hair clean out while Token reassured the blond that there was no such thing as accessories to detention truancy. "I don't like French, and I don' t like her-"

"You only hate them because you suck balls at speaking French."

"Fuck you, Clyde. I don't like her, and I don't like sitting around in detention with a teacher I hate for a class I hate. So I didn't go." He ran a hand through his hair before jamming his hat back on and continuing, "It's not the first one I skipped out on."

Token gave him a skeptical look. "Detention isn't that bad, dude. All you do is sit there and do homework or read until they let you go."

Clyde laughed, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching. "I slept through every detention I've gotten."

He looked too stupidly pleased with himself as he said it, so Craig felt the need to point out, "You've only gotten one detention since freshman year."

Clyde lowered his arms and shot a winning grin in Craig's direction. "And I slept through it," he replied matter-of-factly, grin still in place and pissing Craig off to no end. "So," he paused, watching with obvious satisfaction as Craig's expression soured by degrees, "I've slept through every one I've gotten."

Craig flipped him off, turning away and muttering something about "know-it-alls." He ignored the others' laughter trailing behind him as he came up to the front of "Illegal Joe's Mexican Grill and Cantina."

Yeah, everything had been pretty normal that day. Then they walked into the building and saw what looked like a crime scene.

* * *

**A/N**: Wow. First fic I've posted in...what? Like five years? More? I got inspiration from something I shan't be revealing until the last chapter. Hopefully you won't be able to tell until then, but I'm not too sneaky so no promises on that. I wanted really badly to come up with a way to make this really Cryde-y, because I am absolutely unhappy with the serious lack of fanfics and art of that ship, but it didn't quite work out that way in my head. Turned all platonic. Boo. I'll have to fish out the Cryde WIP I had on my old hard drive and start back up on that. Totally made sure it took place in the same universe though.  
It won't be a terribly long fic. I know exactly where it is going, but the length just depends on how I'm feeling at the time of writing (this wasn't supposed to be nearly as long as it turned out). I'm also warning everyone who happens to read this that I am admittedly slow about updating.

Also, "Illegal Joes" is named after real restaurant chain I found when I googled names for Mexican restaurants. Shout out to "Illegal Pete's" which is actually a chain located in Colorado (of all places).


End file.
